The Beginning of the End
by Fierceawakening
Summary: An older piece. How the Great War began, from the Decepticon point of view. This doesn't fit neatly into any continuity exactly, though it's influenced by the G1 and Bayverse idea that the Decepticons were originally the military.


"This is pointless," the young mech muttered, hastening to keep up with the larger mech ahead of him.

The other stopped and turned slowly. "Pointless, Starscream?"

"Yes, Megatron. Pointless. The time for negotiation is over. If it ever existed in the first place. We need to attack now, while they're not expecting -"

"Negotiation? We are not here to negotiate with them. We're here to demand that they call for this rebellious rabble to put down its arms and leave Kaon. If they don't -" he gritted his dental plates - "what we did to the invaders and their planet will look like mercy compared to what befalls them."

"But they'll never call the riots off. We both know that. They pity the denizens of the planet we razed enough to start riots - even though those slaggers tried to destroy us all."

Megatron's optics flashed, remembering. He and his troops had flown all the way to the invaders' planet, risking their sparks to destroy the factories pumping out the drones swarming toward Cybertron.

They had destroyed everything they found: not just the endless host of drones blackening the ground and clouding the sky and the factories that produced them, but the cities surrounding. The houses, the fuel stockpiles, the schools, the shops, everything, until the rulers of the planet had surrendered in desperation.

It had been... necessary. His warriors had driven the invading drones back from city after city, but they had kept coming. Going to the planet they'd come from had been the only solution. Razing it had been the only way to be sure they'd won. Conquering it had been the only way to be sure their enemies wouldn't plot revenge.

Then they'd come home. They should have been hailed as heroes. They had saved their planet. Beyond that, the galaxy would look upon Cybertron and fear its might.

But instead of accolades, they'd returned to protests. Angry civilians had hissed at them, hurling handfuls of scrap, calling them murderers, war criminals, violent and unstable barbarians. Heckling became protests, at first led by the students, the pacifists, those opposed in principle to war.

Soon, small protests in particularly pacifistic communities became large ones, spreading to every major city. Protests became riots.

Riots, in their turn, became deadly. Several members of the military died policing them. The civilian branch of the government condemned the violence. But their condemnation did not end it. The rioters, delighting in having dismantled a few of "the savages," only became more violent, constructing crude weapons or scavenging them from their fallen opponents.

Soon, Megatron and his troops had had no patience left. They came out in full force to put down the latest of the riots, and succeeded in doing so quickly, ruthlessly, and efficiently. No one had survived.

Megatron's counterpart in the civilian government, up to now reluctant to interfere in military affairs, had finally condemned the military's actions.

Encouraged by the official response, the civilians called for radical restructuring of the military, and removal of its current leaders. Friends of the rioters had taken up their arms and converged on Kaon, threatening to attack it unless Megatron and his advisers stepped down.

The civilian leaders had hastily formed an emergency Council and demanded that, until the escalating violence came under control, the military submit itself to the Council's leadership.

It had been, Megatron reflected with grim satisfaction, a bad move. No war machine, fresh from victory and conquest, had any interest in submitting to civilian leaders appointed by an emergency Council. They had not driven off the invaders. They had not risked spark and servo flying to a hostile planet in enemy territory to save Cybertron from invasion. And they had not surveyed that barren wasteland after subjugating it, triumph thrilling through their circuits.

No, the war machines would never agree to such terms. Unless the Magnus disbanded his little rogue Council and called for these renegades to leave Kaon immediately, there would be war.

Starscream's lip curled. "You can't possibly think that delivering your ultimatum will dissolve such misplaced compassion. Why bother to make formal demands when we know they'll never agree?"

"If we go to war with them, we do it openly. We owe them that much."

"Owe them? We're losing valuable tactical advantage doing this." His wings twitched in exasperation. "We could at least have been feeding them false plans, if you'd only let -"

"Which I did not." Megatron's lip curled into a frown. "I will not deceive them. Not yet."

"Not deceive -?" the other mech sputtered. "We don't owe the truth to those who don't deserve it."

Megatron smirked. "You're right."

Starscream stopped, so suddenly he nearly collided with the other. "I - I am?"

"Yes, you are. We don't owe the truth to our enemies." His dark fist clenched. "And once they are our enemies, you may feed them whatever disinformation you like while the rest of us are busy destroying them."

He scowled, turning back toward the door. "But they are not our enemies yet."

"Not our enemies yet?" Starscream sneered. "You're risking our sparks wasting time, Megatron. And for what? Finer feelings that none of us knew you had? We're warriors, not soft-sparked weaklings like -"

Megatron turned. Without warning, he reached out his dark hands and grabbed Starscream's wings, slowly pressing his subordinate down. Starscream struggled as the pain in his sensitive wings forced him to his knees.

"Enough, Starscream, the bigger mech spat through gritted dental plates. "I am in command here." He let go, knowing the other's wings would still ache from the bruising grip. "You are right. There will be war. But it begins after this meeting. Not before."

The Seeker's eyes flashed an angry, defiant red as he scowled up at his superior. "Then I have no respect left for you."

Megatron watched the light in Starscream's optics dim, frowning. The other mech had always needled him, always challenged his decisions with a mocking smirk. But those had merely been tests. The constant challenge had forced him to think of every possibility, to banish any weakness from his plans. It had been a ritual, nothing more. In the end, his subordinate had always obeyed.

And he would obey, for now. He had no choice. But, watching Starscream rise, he knew things would never be the same between them.

He stared at the broad door in front of him. After today, nothing would ever be the same again. For any of them.

He looked down for a long moment, then raised his head, his optics gleaming as he tapped the console and watched the door slide open.


End file.
